


Something Wonderful in New York

by Kaiyou



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluffy floofy floof, Hint of Saeko, Other, figure skating AU, genderfluid kenma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-16
Updated: 2016-10-16
Packaged: 2018-08-22 16:38:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8292649
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kaiyou/pseuds/Kaiyou
Summary: Kuroo loves New York City in the wintertime, and Kuroo loves Kenma. On a rare weekend off, the two of them go exploring Central Park and wind up in the most unexpected (expected) of places.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Ok, so this is for Kenma's birthday!! It's the sugar bit, fluffy and happy. A friend of mine's daughter loves Kenma and so I asked what they would like, and got "kuroken dating and yuri on ice au" and this is what came out.

Kuroo loved New York City in the wintertime. It was their first trip here and he already knew he loved it. He and Kenma had a weekend off from practice - a whole weekend! - and although they’d spent the first day curled up in fluffy comforters admiring the view out the hotel balcony, Kenma had given into him today and agreed to come out to Central Park.

“It’s Central Park, Kenma! How often will we get to come to Central Park?”

Kenma had scrunched up their nose and pointed out the snow on the ground and snuggled under the covers, but in the end, they caved.

After all, Kuroo could be very persuasive.

Now Kenma was bundled up in a purple knit hat and a blue scarf and a red jacket and purple mittens, hands wrapped around a cup of caramel hot chocolate they’d purchased at the boathouse. The morning had been spent wandering the halls of the Met, Kuroo moving from painting to painting with breathless awe. Kenma had followed him, fingers working their game as they stuck close. Kuroo knew they liked it, though. 

Smiling, Kuroo sat on a bench next to Kenma as they watched children clamber over the huge brass statue in front of them. It was a creation of whimsy: a little girl sat on a mushroom looking down at a kitten, flanked by a mouse, a rabbit, and a man with a very big nose. 

“I love this,” Kuroo said, leaning over and nuzzling the top of Kenma’s hat.

“It’s cold,” Kenma murmured. 

Kuroo wanted to laugh. Most of the places they trained were much colder, and they normally spent about half the day on the ice. Still, they were on it was a vacation. He was happy, he was in love, and he was in New York City.

“What’s your favorite thing about New York, Kenma?” Kuroo asked, ducking his head to catch a glimpse of his partner’s face. Their nose was red. It was adorable.

“Anonymity,” Kenma muttered. 

This time, Kuroo did laugh. It was true that over the past few years they’d gained more fame than Kenma was comfortable with. It wasn’t that they were the best - not yet, at least - but they were a somewhat controversial pair. The ISU still stubbornly classified paired figure skating as a group consisting of one man and one woman. In their eyes, Kenma was male. The idea of someone being genderfluid wasn’t even on their radar. Kuroo was a man, so the two of them didn’t meet the definition, so they had to compete singly. 

Still, they were working to challenge the definition and had skated in several exhibitions to highlight their cause. They weren’t the only ones - Karasuno’s Saeko and Yachi were pushing for change as a pair of women skaters, Saeko’s impressive upper-body strength proving more than a match for many moves traditionally done by males.

Kenma was light and strong enough that Kuroo had no problem lifting and holding them for a routine. They were also strong, so strong and lithe, and Kuroo was utterly and thoroughly in love.

“You like the hot chocolate?”

Kenma tilted their head to the side and nodded, offering the cup for Kuroo to taste.

“No thank you, kitten,” Kuroo murmured, pressing another kiss to purple wool before taking a drink of his own coffee and checking his watch. “Want to walk some more? There’s another place I want to show you.”

“There’s always another place,” Kenma murmured. They were smiling, though, a soft curve of the lips that Kuroo wanted to kiss. Not in public, though.

“Come on, kitten,” Kuroo said, standing and tugging at their mittened hand. “I want to show you everything.”

One thing led to another thing as they wandered. Some of the sights Kuroo wanted to see would only be visible outside of the winter months. As far as Kuroo was concerned, that just meant they’d have to convince their coach to let them come back. He was up for that conversation, and not just because there were so much to explore here. Even more than that, he loved how Kenma was so relaxed. Their hand hadn’t strayed to the pocket with their game nearly as much as it normally did, and no one gave them the strange glances they sometimes got in Tokyo when they walked down the street. Here, Kenma was just Kenma and Kuroo was just Kuroo. 

Kuroo wished that his lover could always feel this free to be themself.

When they reached the destination Kuroo had in mind, Kenma turned to him with a question written on their face. “A skating rink?” Kenma asked, nose crinkling up. 

The questions they weren’t asking were clear in Kuroo’s mind. “Yes, a skating rink,” Kuroo said, tugging at Kenma’s hands and leading thank up to the rental counter. “Anonymity, remember? And you love to skate.”

Kenma was smiling. They tugged their cap off, letting gold and black hair flow free. Kuroo smiled and turned to the attendant, mentioning their reservation and asking for skates and a locker. Kenma shot him a sharp look when he heard about the reservation, but let it slide. 

The skates weren’t what they were used to. They were a little old fashioned, blades probably not as strong as the ones stored back at their hotel room. They would do, though. They reminded Kuroo of the skates they’d used as children, back when Kuroo had dragged Kenma to the rink every morning as before the coach for time on the ice. It amazed Kuroo that Nekomata had been so indulgent with them when they were small. He wondered what he’d seen in them.

Determination in Kuroo himself, probably. In Kenma - well.

Kenma took to the ice as easy as breathing.

They stepped out onto the ice. It wasn’t terribly crowded - more than Kuroo might have liked, definitely more than what they were used to. But Kenma was pure grace as they wove through the other people on the ice, giving into the same calling that had drawn them when Kuroo pushed them out for the first time. Kuroo followed, smiling at the shocked parents and wide-eyed teenage girls as he sped past. His form wasn’t as beautiful as Kenma’s, he knew that. He was stronger. His pushes were more powerful, but without the efficiency that Kenma showed. Kenma made it look easy. 

As they settled into an easy rhythm Kuroo caught a whisper from the people on the edge of the rink. A few of the girls on the edge had their phones raised. He frowned, then looked at Kenma, worried they would notice, though it was probably nothing. The girls were probably just taking pictures of their friends.

It wasn’t like Kenma was noticing anyway. They were lost to the rhythm, black-gold hair flying back as they moved to the beat of the music echoed through the rink. It had transitioned to one of the jazzy songs they’d used for one of their solo performances, and Kuroo could tell that Kenma was almost itching to fall into the steps they’d practiced so long. He grinned and would’ve laughed in delight if he hadn’t been moving so fast. When Kenma glanced back at him, there was a smile on their face that Kuroo would die for. 

They were happy. Kenma was happy. Nothing else in the world mattered.

Kuroo himself was so distracted by watching Kenma move to the music that he almost missed the fact that there were fewer and fewer skaters on the ice each round.

When the song came to a close he blinked, frowning. Kenma skated up to him, grasping his hands and looking around with something akin to fear. 

“What is this?” they said.

Everyone else was stepping off the ice. There were people pressed up around the edge of the rink. Their phones were out. Kuroo wanted to pull Kenma close, afraid that things were going to turn ugly, that New York wasn’t nearly as friendly as he’d felt it was before.

Then a new song started playing. Kuroo knew that song. Kenma knew that song. 

“We love you, kitten!” one of the girls yelled. Others answered, some even trying to use their names, shouting praise in broken Japanese.

Kenma lifted their head, looking around, then looked up at Kuroo.

“Well,” Kuroo muttered, “so much for anonymity.”

Kenma’s lips twitched. “Nekomata is going to kill us.”

Grinning, Kuroo looked around at all the people with phones out. “Wanna do it?”

“Yes.”

It made Kuroo almost whoop out loud right there on the ice. Instead, he turned and waved to the booth with the man playing the music. “Hey, hey!” he called out, hoping his English was good enough to be understood. “Play it again?”

The music stopped, and Kuroo turned back to Kenma, holding their hands.

Notes danced through the air again, familiar as breath, and the magic started.

It wasn’t one of their most impressive performances. This routine had never been anything championship-worthy, and both the rink and the skates didn’t allow for their most crowd-pleasing moves. Still, they had room, they had ice, they had music, and they had each other.

Every move was speech without words. Kenma was perfect - moving away, twisting to flirt, stopping and raising their arms in pure motion and allowing themself to be linked up in a twirl before being lifting up to fly. And fly they did, following the music down, landing spins and jumps that awed Kuroo even as he knew he could achieve them himself. There were people cheering around them, he knew - people watching, clapping, amazed. Some who had probably never seen figure skating this up close and personal. For Kuroo, none of that mattered.

For Kuroo it was all about Kenma, and motion, and love.

At the end, Kenma spun into his arms and they both twisted, holding each other until they came to rest on their knees on the ice.

Kenma blinked. Smiled. Their lips were red from the cold, eyes glowing with joy. People were cheering them and New York City was awesome and Kuroo was in love.

So he kissed those red, red lips, pressing in for a moment before pulling back and smiling down into Kenma’s eyes. 

Kenma laughed. They blinked, and Kuroo pressed their foreheads together a moment, savoring the moment before they both pushed to their feet and took a bow.

“Thank you, thank you,” Kuroo said, skating hand in hand over to the edge and stepping out. Kenma pressed up close against him, shy now that there were people everywhere with pens and paper. Kuroo signed for both of them, smiling and laughing. A few small children tugged at Kenma’s pants and they knelt, smiling at them and even giving a few rare autographs. It was exactly the type of gathering Kuroo had always wanted - no reporters, just people who loved skating. People who loved skating enough that they were already starting to fill up the rink again, a few kids even trying out some of their moves.

“How do you do that?” one little girl said, tugging at Kenma’s coat.

They laughed. “Practice,” Kenma said. “Practice, practice, practice.”

Her friend said, “I try, but I always fall on my butt.”

“Sasha!” the girl gasped. “You aren’t supposed to say that word!”

Kenma just laughed. “I fall all the time,” they said. “The trick is to always get back up.”

Kuroo didn’t know if it was possible to fall more in love, but his heart was certainly trying.

Finally, finally, the last autograph had been signed and they got their things from the locker. Kuroo checked his phone. Twelve missed calls and thirty-six messages. He laughed, answering when a new call came through.

“I hope you know you’re blowing up all over social media, you big alley cat,” Saeko said. She sounded delighted. “How the hell did you pull that off?”

Kuroo grinned. “Completely spontaneous,” he said, helping Kenma tug their hat back on. 

“Yeah, well you must have the devil’s luck because so far everyone loves it. Kenma looked amazing, too. And that kiss!”

“Kenma is always amazing,” Kuroo replied, grinning as Kenma looked up at him and stuck out their tongue.

“You still going through with it, then?”

“Ah, yes,” Kuroo said, checking the pocket of his coat for the box he knew was there. “Yes, I am.”

“Well good luck, ya big bastard. You sure as hell don’t deserve them, but I wish you all the best.”

“Thanks,” Kuroo replied, hanging up and stuffing the phone back into his pocket before taking Kenma’s hand.

“I love you,” he murmured, squeezing the small hand and watching as another of those magical smiles spread across Kenma’s face.

“I love you too.”

Kuroo beamed, loving this moment and excited for what was to come. Dinner, and laughter, and a walk on the High Line to enjoy the gardens and the view of the city at night. And then, if he was brave, a question.

An answer.

A future, a forever, and a world that was changing little by little to be the place Kenma deserved for it to be. All in this magical city, where snowflakes fell and gathered on Kenma’s purple hat and landed on their nose, and Kenma smiled.

Kuroo loved them, and he loved New York City in the wintertime.

**Author's Note:**

> Come visit/talk with me at <https://www.tumblr.com/blog/kaiyouchan>!


End file.
